


Nu Kyr'adyc, Shi Taab'echaaj'la (Not Gone, Merely Marching Far Away)

by postapocalyptic_cryptic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bi Rex, Bisexual Jango Fett, Boba Fett Needs A Hug, CT-7567 | Rex is a Good Bro, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Boba Fett, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Siblings, also, most of the clones are queer, sorta - Freeform, yeah i make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27989844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postapocalyptic_cryptic/pseuds/postapocalyptic_cryptic
Summary: Being twelve is hard. Being gay is hard. Losing your father is hard. Rex's shoulder is soft.ORBoba comes out to Rex, only to find an unexpected horde of allies. Both of them grapple with the idea of being a son. Takes place in a self-indulgent AU in my head where Boba doesn't go to jail because it's my writing and I decide the canon.
Relationships: Boba Fett & CT-7567 | Rex
Kudos: 85





	Nu Kyr'adyc, Shi Taab'echaaj'la (Not Gone, Merely Marching Far Away)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Short phrasebook of Mando'a words used in the story:
> 
> vod'ika = little brother  
> shabla = fucked up
> 
> And that's it! That's all you need to know!

When the kid comes to Rex’s door with red eyes and tired shoulders, he usher him immediately inside, thanking the Gods for the privacy of Captain’s quarters. Boba’s shaking like a leaf with the effort of holding in  _ something,  _ and Rex just  _ knows  _ it’s bad. 

“What’s up,  _ vod’ika?”  _ Rex asks, wrapping an arm around Boba’s shoulders and walking him to the bed.

Boba sits next to him, stiff and distant compared to his usual easy lean, and says nothing for a long time. Finally, he manages, “Nothin’.”

Rex scoffs. “It’s not ‘nothin’,’ kid, you won’t even look at me,” he says, knocking his shoulder into Boba’s. Boba shies away and Rex sighs, leaning back into his own space. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Boba makes an odd, choked-off sound and nods tremulously. “I- Rex, do you. Do you ever feel like there’s something wrong with you? Like they cloned you wrong?” 

Oh, kriff. This may be going deeper than Rex anticipated. Still, he laughs it off. “Of course, kid. You know you’re talking to the guy with blond hair, right?” 

Boba huffs, drumming his heels against the bed frame. “No, I mean like… I mean… Sometimes, sometimes I feel like I’m all  _ shabla  _ inside.” 

“Language,” Rex chides. Sometimes, Boba thinks he can get away with swearing as long as he steers clear of Basic. This had led to several catastrophes, most notably involving the Huttese words for “son-of-a-nerf-herder, idealist, psychotic motherfucker” and one General Skywalker. 

He wracks his brain for any and all crises involving this much teen angst, but comes up empty. The thing about talking with Boba is that, though they’ve had much different life experiences, they share the same genetic code. Sometimes, this means that Rex is pretty good at handling Boba’s moods and giving him advice based on Rex’s own ill-fated puberty. Other times, it’s blatantly obvious that Rex grows at twice the rate Boba does and therefore his advice is years early or just too late. 

What was six year old Rex worrying about? Rex takes a tour down memory lane while Boba continues to talk.

“I’m not even sure I’m right about it, but everything feels weird, like my skin is the wrong size,” Boba says, voice beginning to crack around tears. 

Rex throws an arm around Boba’s shoulders, this time not giving up until Boba settles. “It’s okay, kid. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” 

Suddenly, the promised tears arrive. Boba sobs, burying his face in Rex’s shoulder and clinging to his blacks. “It’s not okay, it’s not okay, it’s not, it’s not, it’s not,” he cries. “I dunno- I dunno what’s happening to me.” 

“Okay, it’s alright,” Rex assures him, patting Boba’s shoulder. He’s a little out of his depth here. “What’s eating you up like this? Like I said, you can tell me anything.” 

_ Come  _ on,  _ Rex. What made you feel like the world was ending and you were broken and-  _

Oh. 

Oh, kid. 

Gently, Rex pries Boba from his shoulder. The kid looks up at him with puffy, miserable eyes and an utterly lost expression and Rex wonders if this is how he looked crying on Switchback all those years ago. “Boba,” he begins. “I think I know what you’re upset about. Do you want me to guess, or do you want to tell me?” 

Boba’s eyes narrow like he doesn’t believe Rex. Then, he looks down again, leaning back and twisting one hand into Rex’s sheets. “I,” he begins. “I. It’s. I.” Then, he takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. “I like boys,” Boba says, all in a rush. Then, his little hands clap over his mouth and the sobs start up again twice as hard. 

_ Bingo.  _ “Boba, it’s alright.” Rex reaches a hand out, but Boba moves away again. 

Between the sobs, Boba’s talking, spilling his guts like this is confessional and he’s a dying man. “I tried to ignore it and make it go away, but it  _ wouldn’t  _ and I know it’s not normal, but I just can’t seem to make it go away! I don’t want this,” he cries. “I didn’t ask for this.” 

If he keeps crying this hard, the kid’s going to make himself throw up. Rex speaks as clearly and gently as he can. “Boba. Hey,  _ vod’ika,  _ listen to me. Listen.” He manages to get at least part of Boba’s attention. “You want to know something? So do I.” 

“ _ What?”  _ Boba’s eyes go wide and, for a moment, the tears stop. 

“Yup,” Rex says, popping the  _ p.  _ “You know who else does? A good portion of the clones on this ship. And General Skywalker. And Commander Taano. Well, Commander Taano likes girls, but it’s the same concept, really, just-  _ oof!”  _

Rex is hit by a flying twelve-year-old, all the wind knocked out of him as Boba clings to him. A muffled, “Really?” makes it way up to Rex’s ears and he chuckles. 

“Yeah, really. You’re not broken,  _ vod’ika.”  _ Right then, Rex makes the decision to throw himself into dangerous waters. Boba needs this right now. “You know what that means, right?” A head shake. “It means that your dad probably did, too,” Rex says. 

Boba stills and, for a long moment, Rex is afraid he’s made the wrong choice. Jango Fett is still a sore subject for both of them and neither have yet figured out how to navigate his memory. Finally, Boba lifts his head and whispers, “I think he knew. Even though I didn’t, I think he did.” 

“He probably did,” Rex agrees. He wonders, not for the first time, what it must be like to have parents. This time, though, it’s not through a lens of self-pity. How would Rex’s experience with his own sexuality be different if he had parents to disappoint? What if the eyes staring him down, daring him to make a wrong move were the eyes of someone he loved? How would he feel knowing that, not only could random people across the galaxy hate him, but his own flesh and blood? “You know what else I think, kiddo?” he asks. “I think Jango would be incredibly proud of you.” 

For the first time since entering the room, Boba smiles. It’s shaky and tearstained, but it’s there. “Even for this?”

“Especially for this.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Rex's characterization is so hard for me and for what? To make me less cool?  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to hit me up in the comments or on tumblr @ either postapocalyptic-cryptic-fic (general fic) or chiafett (Star Wars side).


End file.
